Page 1 of 22

Hi all, I suppose today the word 'scam' is what we used to call con-men. And Coventry had their share back in the fifties (or do we want to hide it under the carpet) but then it was more open.
Young Coventry lad I knew of slightly, was working on Victoria Station, with a chocolate and soft drinks kind of trolley. With time to spare we talked - he told me he had to get out of Coventry (police attention). While talking I noticed he was short changing everyone - when I asked him about it he told me to clear off.
Later I heard he got 'hot' in London, went to Marseilles, joined the French Foreign Legion. Three days later they dumped him back in Marseilles, in a pair of torn shorts, an old vest and his passport, no money, no anything.
After some years of trying, three Coventry con-men finally conned me out of a sum of money. Luckily some six months later, with the help of a young lady and a guy of authority, I did the same to them, retrieved my money and a little extra.
The great days of the fifties, I was known as a 'character' and I loved every minute of it.

My nickname, way back when I was a kid, a left handed person was called kaggy-handed, but at two years of age couldn't manage that, just kaga, it stuck until I was seventeen, now a family joke.
And talking about my childhood down the slough, introduced as kaga on this forum, let it stay.
Many a kid has hated the name they were given at school, but too young to do much about it.
Now I am well past my sell-by-date, thought I would share my unusual experiences with other people.
Regards Kaga.

I am amazed that you were allowed to be kaggy. It was really looked down upon at the Cov Prep school and anybody showing signs of being kaggy was beaten into submission. I hardly knew anybody who was kaggy handed or who would admit to it. In later life, I have come across many.

I drove a pony and trap on a milk round in 1941-3, Foleshill, Old Church Rd - Aldermans Green Rd, air raid or no air-raid, debris as well. For a short time, then the government condensed the streets we could use so customers had to have the allotted milkman they were given.
Now Paul-guy can tell you of the steep slope up and onto the road I had to contend with 4/5 large churns of milk, and a pony that was slithering and sliding in the icy winter.
I washed the bottles, churns, etc, carried cartons of Carnation milk etc and somewhere on this forum I told our weights and measures man I used to hate his predecessor, for if you had a Co-op bottle or any other firm's bottle you were fined and severely cautioned, and could lose your job.
I fed and groomed the pony. That was part of my job from 14-half to 17-half (then forces) - it was all part of the day, and I loved it.
My pony was a mare, and one day she stopped, right on the junction of Hall Green Rd / Aldermans Green Rd and Windmill Lane, for natural reasons, and nothing would budge her, a large car was held up and began to toot, to no avail, when we finally moved, the car carried the Mayor of Coventry, afraid my mare had the upper hand.

Like to add a little more to the above story. This little mare shared a field with two shire horses, and in 39 the Army stuck a pom-pom gun in the next field, can you imagine the horror for them, when that started to rat-a-tat at night, obviously we quickly moved them to a field as far away as we could, but there was no way you could explain a war to an animal, and I had a lot of trouble with her the few times the sirens sounded in the day, but gradually she began to like me whispering in her ear (or I thought so) until the noise stopped. When I left to join the forces, my boss kindly retired her. A very brave animal that got mixed up in man's folly.

In 1945 it was said that it cost the gov't over a £1000 to train an airborne soldier, so the army made you love guns. I came home on my last leave and took my father's gun along the canal banks to shoot a rabbit, heard a noise behind me on the opposite side of the canal, I turned and fired, something fell, I crossed the bridge and went to see what I had hit. It was a beautiful kingfisher in all its glory and I had killed it. I threw the gun on the floor and kicked it, swore I would never fire a gun ever again and I kept my promise to myself, have never picked up a gun again even at fun-fairs with my boys, and never will. A lesson learnt the hard way.
Post moved from topic Sorry state (non-Cov) on 12th Oct 2017 6:44 pm

On 4th Jul 2016 7:11pm, Kaga simpson said:
I have just spent seven days in hospital with a minor stroke, my mind is no way impaired, or my vision so thankfully can still read your posts. I should make a full recovery so more than ever look forward to your posts, please keep them coming. Thanks and regards, Kaga.

I'm sure all members will want to wish you all the best for a full and speedy recovery